Bobby's Nightmarish Valentine's Day
by Kajune
Summary: Normal days with the angels were hard enough, now it's Valentine's Day at the Singer House.
1. Morning

**Title** : Bobby's (nearly) Nightmarish Valentine's Day

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Characters of Supernatural.

 **Genre** : Humor / Family

 **Warning** : OOCness.

 **Summary** : For Bobby, angels were troublesome enough, now he has a demon on his lap.

* * *

It crossed Bobby's mind once, that if a normal, non-apocalyptic, storm-filled day had him thinking suicidal thoughts, then how was an apocalyptic, storm-filled day going to be?

Actually, what was a day marked as a special holiday in America going to be?

The Winchester brothers were never really fond of traditions, partly because of their hunting background and partly because during days like Halloween, awful stuff always happened. This includes the rise of Samhain and one awful near-death experience Sam and Dean had a few years back.

Christmas was the day the boys attempted to celebrate the most, and maybe Bobby wasn't a sentimentalist, but he enjoyed taking part in their extravagant cooking. Not the decorations, because the boys decided that last time, they should decorate Castiel and not the tree Bobby brought in.

Poor angel.

Special days like New Years or the Chinese New Years were mostly ignored. At most, Sam and Dean shared a drink to celebrate surviving yet another hectic year. Next was birthdays, and that was nearly as good as Winchester Christmas, except the presents were mostly pranks.

Last year, Dean bought Sam a jack-in-the-box. It scared the tall guy out of his pants, but he appreciated it for the fact that the 'jack', was dressed as Dean holding a sign saying "always here for you". Bobby doesn't remember what Sam bought, but whatever it was, it amended any ill-feelings Dean may have been carrying.

Then there's Valentine's Day, unsurprisingly Dean's favorite holiday, and the next one on the calendar.

Bobby is staring at his mini-calendar right now. Nothing happens much on Valentine's Day. Maybe Dean gains a higher risk at contracting HIV but otherwise, it's extra chocolate and an excuse to watch romance shows. What makes Bobby's skin crawl this year is the fact that...

Lucifer is living under his roof, being a pain and a stunningly curious being when it comes to human inventions.

Such as traditions.

Michael comes to stay here from time to time, but since he rarely helps with anything but matters concerning only himself, Bobby considers him just as big of a pain. He's definitely not the curious type, but is overly judgmental on things.

So much that Dean once threw a sock at him to shut him up.

Bobby doubts angels celebrate Valentine's Day. Dean mentioned Castiel was still a virgin and as an angel, he didn't really have a gender. Not that Bobby understood much about that, but it was enough to warrant him a reason to worry for his own sanity should the holiday come by.

At precisely 8 am, something falls onto his lap.

It's Crowley.

"Oh bloody dear."

The egg-headed, suit-loving crossroads demon is suddenly on top of him, a glass of wine in hand and an expression that seems to shift between indifference and bewilderment. Bobby is so ready to explode.

Then, there's a bark of laughter.

Both the demon and the human turn to spot Lucifer, in his original vessel, laughing at them from the middle of the room, where Bobby is certain wasn't occupied a minute ago. Lucifer is clutching his stomach from a violent fit of laughter, which only irritates Bobby and makes him even more tempted to just risk his life and shoot the damn angel.

"Priceless!"

He cries, while brushing tears from his eyes. Michael's head emerges from around the corner, confusion written all over it.

It takes an extra minute before Crowley makes a desperate move to scramble off the hunter, but somehow, Bobby feels the demon's rear stuck to his thighs. No matter how hard they try to pull, they won't come apart.

Lucifer is shaking his index finger at them.

"Uh ah, no can do."

Crowley's eyes briefly turn demonic red before he settles down. Bobby deeply regrets not keeping the shotgun within arm's reach. He's staring at it quite longingly.

It's as the laughter begins to subside that Sam and Dean come down the staircase, with Adam in tow.

"The hell is going on?" Dean and Lucifer exchange looks. "What are you laughing about?"

Sam's eyes are already on Bobby, but it takes Lucifer to point in their direction for Dean to turn, and the look on his face morphs into a comical version of being horror-struck. Bobby doesn't laugh because of the awful state he's in.

"Hello, boys."

Crowley greets, voice smooth, as he takes a sip of his drink.

Neither boys seem able to respond to the awkward position of the demon and Bobby. Lucifer is still grinning that face-splitting grin while Adam looks no less shocked than his brothers. Michael, standing not far behind his brother, once again looks painfully detached.

There's a cough, and Bobby only half-expects Dean to say something decent.

"Oh, wow, Bobby. I didn't know you swung that way."

It's in that instant that Bobby produces the desire to shoot Dean too.

Sam sends his brother one of his prized bitch-faces, but Dean brushes him off. Adam is gaping like a fish as if the idea of homosexuality is utterly foreign to him. Michael's face is forming a frown.

"I don't."

Bobby deadpans, but for some reason, the elder Winchester doesn't look convinced.

Lucifer, on the other hand, has something to say.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, can't you see? Old man here is trying to celebrate Valentine's Day, but we're all here interrupting."

Adam pales at the thought, and looks tempted to storm back upstairs to provide the pair some privacy. Dean looks like he actually believes the freaking Devil, while Sam looks entirely unconvinced. It's been a while since Lucifer lost his charm over the younger Winchester.

One of Bobby's most recent fond memories is Sam nearly running Lucifer over with the Impala, after the Devil suggested Sam needed to get himself a wife.

He went into great detail why, and even offered helping with the search. He used the kind of words that would likely fool a Nazi soldier, but Sam showed no hesitancy in trying to kill the angel for simply opening his mouth. Not to mention, the conversation started with Sam ten feet away from the car.

It was the last time Lucifer tried to sweet talk to Sam.

He spent the remainder of that day complaining to Michael, who hardly listened.

"Go on, boys. Me and Bobby here are trying to enjoy ourselves."

Crowley says before taking another sip of his drink. Bobby shoots him a disbelieving look. Sam does so too, while Dean seems resigned to the idea of following Adam up the stairs.

Michael?

The archangel looks like he's had enough.

He's about to pull his nose off with how hard he's pinching.

"It's fun, having a partner." Crowley adds, his attention fixed on Sam. Dean stops mid-way up the stairs, judging by the pair of feet Bobby can see. "A partner to love, to spend time with." The demon leers at Lucifer, whose smile begins to fade. "To keeps us from loneliness. Oh how miserable the lonely must be."

Bobby doesn't know, can't see, but Crowley winks at Lucifer and that's when it clicks for everyone. The whole speech was a mock to Lucifer. Strong winds hit Bobby in the face when Lucifer snaps his wrist, and sends Crowley flying into a nearby wall. Half of the demon's body sticks out, particularly the bottom half.

Lucifer's expression is now one of pure rage.

All three hunters notice the danger and take careful steps back, Bobby slides his chair back until it can't go any further. Just when the archangel looks like he's about to erupt, a hand clasps his shoulder.

"You're not alone, Luci. I'm here for you."

All eyes turn towards Michael, who's actually wearing a soft, loving smile. Bobby has hardly seen an emotion cross the elder archangel's face. It's a sight worth remembering. Lucifer deflates, and whatever tension entered the room as a result of the anger immediately disperses. The Winchesters immediately gasp for air.

Lucifer looks over to the seemingly unconscious demon, and sticks his tongue out. He then takes Michael's hand and pulls him towards the kitchen. He walks away with his head held high and chest puffed up, and Bobby doesn't need to ask the brothers to know that they agree.

Lucifer looks like a child trying to make himself big.

Big and bad.

Like a King who owns the Earth.

He honestly nearly came close to conquering the planet, but Bobby doesn't want to think about that.

Sam cracks a smile, as if the sight of two brothers caring for each other touches his heart. It most likely does. Just after the angels are out of sight, Dean breaks the silence.

"Shoot!"

Dean's stomping down the few remaining steps and heads for his jacket. Bobby watches him go with a bewildered expression.

"I forgot about my date. Need to meet my date!"

He's out the door before Sam can say a word about that.

As the sound of the Impala's engine grows increasingly distant, Bobby turns to Sam.

"I guess that means no nightmarish Valentine's Day?"

Sam's smile returns, but with a whole lot more mirth to it.

"We've still got a lot of hours to go, Bobby."

Bobby sighs.


	2. Noon

**Title** : Bobby's Nightmarish Valentine's Day

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Characters of Supernatural.

 **Chapter Summary** : Screw angels, humans also cause problems.

* * *

 **Noon**

* * *

Bobby doesn't expect Dean to be back from his Valentine's Day date for the next four hours. He said he had a date, but Bobby knows Dean will be at a bar getting himself a new girl in no time. Considering the occasion, make that _a couple of_ new girls.

He'll probably be gone all day, in fact.

Bobby can almost hear Sam berating his brother inside his head. He's sitting hunched over on the kitchen table glaring daggers into a lore book, as if it will transfer the annoyance onto Dean.

Adam looks mildly depressed. After repeating to the kid over and over that there isn't going to be any boy love going on, and that Crowley - who is still stuck in the wall - isn't going to wake up anytime soon, Adam relaxed a bit, and started fiddling around on Facebook through his cell phone.

From what Bobby understands about the kid, he shares Dean's love for women.

He's just not as lucky with them.

Which leaves the kitchen occupied by two brothers, both single, who have no intention of celebrating Valentine's Day like an average person. Bobby doesn't mind this, but it's the angels he's worried about.

And what's he supposed to do once Crowley wakes up?

When Michael walks in from wherever he's been for the past two hours or so, Sam finally looks up.

"Where's Lucifer?"

Bobby senses dread in his voice.

"Watching humans celebrate Valentine's Day." Michael answers.

"Does that include messing with them or not?"

Bobby considers the possibility that he just let loose the Devil (of all creatures) onto a love-struck town, and sooner or later, Jody Mills is going to be slamming upon his door with her fist. Of course, it's better than having Lucifer mess around inside the confined space of his home, but he doesn't need the whole world sharing his misfortune, and blaming him for it.

Michael looks almost apologetic, which is why Sam drops his head into the book and sighs.

Adam glances up for a mere second before focusing back on his phone.

Bobby wants to complain. He wants to make sure Lucifer doesn't go around popping brain cells or giving out free heart attacks. He doesn't have the authority or the guts to really do so, which is a shame.

If only the Devil came with a leash.

"Mr. Singer."

Bobby looks up at the call of his name, only to see Michael standing a little closer and giving him a near-patronizing look, like the angel sees himself talking to a child.

"I would recommend no mixed species relations, in case there are any."

Had Bobby been drinking something, he would have sputtered it all across his desk and caught some in his throat. He chokes, and sends wide, disbelieving eyes at the angel as his mind piles up all the insults it knows, because that was just plain offensive.

Did he somehow look like he was enjoying himself?

While Adam curls in on himself more, feet up on the chair, Sam looks over and sends a questioning stare at the back of Michael's head.

Bobby initially wondered why the _I-don't-care-none-of-my-business_ archangel looked so distressed, or bothered by the sight of a demon on a hunter's lap. He now regrets knowing.

"I ain't some homo in love, you idjit!"

Bobby barks, voice hoarse but otherwise not betraying any of his annoyance. Michael doesn't seem affected while Sam jumps slightly. It's actually good the angel doesn't get upset, because all Earth, Heaven and Hell must know that getting on Lucifer's bad side can never be worse than getting on Michael's.

It's only a bit harder to because Michael is so indifferent towards everything.

"As I said," He pronounces each word carefully. "in case there are any." He repeats, and both Sam and Bobby shudder.

Something on Adam's phone puts a smile on the boy's face, and what felt like a heavy silence gets thrown out the window when Adam calls the angel's name.

"Hey, Michael."

Michael turns round, and in that instant, Adam takes a photograph of him. The hunters look on confused, but the grin on Adam's face is big and wide and it's giving the impression of someone having a devious plan.

"...What?"

Michael finally asks.

Adam presses a few more buttons before sending the whole room a sheepish grin, which doesn't fit the boy's face at all. He's usually serious, bored or irritable, much like a picky housewife, but apparently this holiday has the magic to smooth out his features, make him act his age.

Bobby honestly doesn't know which version of Adam is better, though.

"Just...a girl I'm talking to. She prefers guys with black hair." Sam raises his eyebrow at him, so he continues. "So I sent her a picture of you. Do you mind?"

Bobby can't see clearly but Michael is giving Adam a perplexed look. Sam's brain starts bustling with ideas until one clicks into place. His eyes grow wide and his face fills with mortification.

"Did you just...hook Michael up with a stranger?"

Miraculously, Michael's skin turns completely white. His silver eyes open wide and his whole body goes rigid from shock. Adam examines him with a curious face, completely ignoring his older brother. Bobby can almost hear Crowley groaning from inside the wall.

"Well, it is Valentine's Day," Adam reasons. "and you should get yourself a girl, unless you're a virgin like Cas?"

Michael purses his lips. He looks utterly offended and that's when the brothers turn to look at him, their expressions matching. Bobby doesn't know how the brothers are going to erupt, or why they even appear to have the urge to. It's not really any of their business, but somehow, Facebook made it Adam's business.

At least he didn't talk to someone fascinated in bearded old men. Bobby is too occupied with daily nightmares to deal with any second chance at love.

Adam stomps his feet as he rises from the chair. Crowley flinches but only Bobby notices. Adam then grabs Michael by the wrist and pulls him towards the door.

"We must fix that, right now."

Everyone knows Michael has the strength to shred Adam into tiny, cell-sized pieces, but Bobby believes the angel is so shocked that he can't form the right amount of energy to pull away from Adam. Sam watches the pair go, still in his seat but does appear tempted to stop the nonsense.

A car door opens, then closes, and the sound of Adam's own car starting reaches Bobby's ears. The vehicle is out of sight within the next two seconds. Sam is currently gaping like a fish.

As Crowley begins to properly stir, Bobby breaks the silence with one final question.

"How many hours left?"

Sam swallows.

"Nearly half a day."

Bobby sighs.


	3. Evening

**Title** : Bobby's Nightmarish Valentine's Day

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Characters of Supernatural.

* * *

 **Evening**

* * *

 **Chapter Summary** : Humans find dates, angels avoid them, and demons talk too much.

* * *

It takes Crowley about four minutes to emerge from the wall, appearing groggy and out of place. Sam spends those four minutes drawing up a Devil's Trap, and as Crowley gathers himself, Sam yanks him into the circle and looks back at the demon with pride.

Crowley pouts.

He actually pouts.

He won't stop until Sam agrees to at least get him a chair, which he does.

"How ya feeling?"

Bobby asks, and for some crazy reason, Crowley looks like he feels touched by the sympathy. Even Sam acts like the question is totally out of character, or that it implies some genuine concern which could prove Lucifer's assumption from earlier.

Bobby shoots them both his mightiest death glare.

"Headache." Crowley finally answers. "A tremendously bad...headache."

The three of them thus sit in silence as Crowley tries to will away the pain. Bobby supposes the difference in power between archangel and crossroads demon is so great, that a mere flick of the wrist can potentially kill Crowley.

What an awful way to spend Valentine's Day.

It's about an hour later when Michael pops up in the middle of the room, with pink lipstick kisses adorning his cheeks. Judging from the slightly disorientated state he is in, the three assume Michael either got laid or made a run for it.

When Sam asks how things went, Michael purses his lips and shakes his head.

Obviously, with that answer, Michael had run.

None of them say anything as Michael mutters an "excuse me" and walks up the stairs on unsteady feet. Once he's out of sight, everyone goes back to whatever they were doing. For Sam, it was reading, while for Bobby, it was making the decision to eat something or become one with the chair.

He has grown fond of the chair, because it somehow protects him from the newly-arrived insanity, even if it only manages to physically.

Ultimately, Bobby chooses to do something and marches over towards the kitchen. By the time he comes back, nothing has changed, though Crowley does look a little bit better, and a little bit bored.

Bobby had, during his absence, gotten himself a beer and a homemade sandwich.

The sandwich doesn't make it to Bobby's mouth before Sam's cell phone rings. The hunter plucks it out from his trousers and looks at the screen.

"A message from Adam." Sam says, and Crowley loses interest. "Sorry, I won't be back until late. Met a hot girl who has great chemistry with me. Happy Valentine's Day."

There's a small smile on Sam's lips once he's finished reading, a sign that he quietly cheers his brother on. Touching, Bobby thinks, as he makes a giant gap in his square-shaped meal.

"Lovely. Now, would you boys consider finding a mate for yourselves?"

Sam is only mildly bemused by the question (and a tad bit more offended) while everything in Bobby's mouth comes spewing out through ragged coughs, which leave Sam and Crowley with stupefied looks on their faces.

It takes a while, but Bobby does manage to collect his bearings and the first thing he does is send Crowley a fierce glare. It's the only weapon he's willing to use, because even with his shotgun in reach, he might just shoot everything else in this building, his mood is so slow.

Thank the demon that nearly ended his life.

The question couldn't have been more badly timed too.

"You okay, Bobby?"

Bobby ignores the hunter in favor of giving Crowley one hell of a lecture. "I'm sorry, but when did that become any of your goddamn business!?"

Bobby's hand curls around the barrel of the shotgun when his first response is a teasing smile. _How dare he..._

"Come on, it was just a question, brought on by simple curiosity."

Even Sam can tell the other hunter is not convinced.

"I mean, look at yourself Bobby, old and ragged, yet all you do is fight demons and monsters, I'd say it's time you made good use of your manhood and-"

Crowley is cut off by half a sandwich splattering onto his face.

Sam does everything in his power not to roll off the chair and laugh. Bobby, on the other hand, drops his face into the palm of his hands and rubs, hard, just to rid himself of the incredible urge to choke the demon and see if he likes it.

"How dare you!"

Crowley eventually shouts, but not at Bobby, surprisingly, but at Sam, who is still trying to contain his enjoyment. Sam wants to say the demon totally deserved it, but thinks against voicing his thoughts in case Crowley gets back at him in a way that would make him regret it.

"It's just a sandwich, you idjit."

Bobby sarcastically remarks. Crowley glares back at him.

"I know, but look what you did to my _suit_! It was bad enough with all the dust and germs and wood bits, now _this_!?"

Admittedly, what Crowley has on him is a bit worse compared to what was on there before. There was quite a few ingredients mashed into that sandwich, not to mention...

"Oh Bobby, you even left me some of your saliva. Call me for some BDSM if you truly want that."

The words send Bobby's head bursting with a thousand reasons why there's a lot wrong with the suggestion. It's safe to say every demon has their sanity screw loose, for who in their right mind would even think Bobby wants to go all out like that. Sam, likewise, doesn't know what to say to the unimaginably crazy idea. If there's anything he's certain, right now, it's that Lucifer would be laughing at the notion.

It only gets weirder when Crowley just brushes himself and lets everything drop to the floor, behaving like he didn't just make Bobby's heart stop. The barrel of the shotgun is now under a suffocatingly tight grip. Sam feels relief wash over him when the bits of food don't smear the Devil's trap, which would mean double craziness from the demon.

If he were fast enough, Sam could probably pin Crowley to a wall using the demon knife in his pocket.

A minute later, and Bobby's head slams onto the desk, face down. When he doesn't stir even the slightest a while later, Crowley and Sam exchange concerned looks.

"Bobby, you okay there?" Crowley asks.

The answer comes with such firmness it ends further concern.

"Playing dead."

Sam takes it as a sign that, regardless if Bobby is better sitting upright, peace is to come, though to his grand misery, Crowley is talkative today.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Sam pointedly keeps his eyes on the book.

"Gonna find yourself a mate?"

"Why do you use the word 'mate'?"

"Eternal bonding, true love, soul _mates_."

Sam sends him a 'are you kidding me' look also known as bitchface #7, because anyone who has known the Winchester brothers for more than three months should be aware that true love doesn't come with the job. In addition, like Bobby said, it is none of Crowley's business, which is why Sam also switches to a look that conveys that message, also known as bitchface #16.

Crowley merely smiles back in amusement, like everything is a game to him, so Sam chooses to ignore, but it's in that instant Crowley chooses to speak again.

"Oh, don't be like that, dear Samantha. You know it would be nice to-"

The look Sam sends this time, is not one of the bitchfaces, but a murderous, angry look Sam formulates by gathering up all his anger from past misery and putting it on for show.

"Crowley, will you please shut the hell _up_?"

He does, in fact, shut up after that.

Bobby Singer, from the deep recesses of his mind, considers this year's Valentine's Day to be his worst.

Two hours later, as Sam and Crowley decide to share a drink of Bobby's beer since Bobby looks asleep and finally at peace (as if), the day only gets more heart-throbbing for poor old Bobby.

A stack of chocolate bars, three buckets of different flavored ice-cream, and various sweets pop up in the middle of the room. They are followed by a beaming archangel.

"Hiya, Sammy!"

Sam's first thought is that Lucifer looks to be in a remarkably good mood, which is why, he turns remarkably pale.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

There's a pause, with Lucifer staring at Sam like the question literally came out of nowhere and he has no clue how it came to be. It gives the hint that maybe, Lucifer did nothing bad while he was out.

Unlikely.

"Just...broke up a few cheesy-looking couples, raided a few stores and had fun."

It's incredible how he makes it sound like none of that is wrong.

Sam face palms.

Bobby mentally follows.

Crowley shrinks into the chair, wanting to disappear, but Lucifer's eyes are on him almost instantly and...

Bobby doesn't need eyes to know that the loud crashing is caused by Crowley re-entering the hole. It would be nice if the demon never came back out, and Lucifer did that to no one else. It's a futile wish though.

"I had fun, so be happy for me."

Lucifer insists, quite petulantly, and Sam is tempted to shout for Michael. Looking over his shoulder, the archangel is somehow already there, at the bottom of the staircase.

"I am."

It's a half-smile, but Sam's not going to blame him, since he still looks worked up from his trip.

Lucifer doesn't look completely happy about that, but he accepts it and lifts an arm full of the sugary treats and drops it onto the table in front of Sam.

"Have some."

He winks, before taking another arm full over to Michael.

"Share with me?"

Michael nods, and they gather on the sofa.

Sam wishes he had the strength to say no, but he doesn't. Even while jolly, Lucifer is capable of going all nasty in a matter of a millisecond, as seen with how he attacked Crowley without provocation.

What he's been given is too much for him, certainly.

Hopefully everyone can share.

"Bobby, want some?"

And that's when Bobby gets up and joins Sam at the table.

"How much of today is left?"

Sam smiles.

"Not long now."

Bobby sighs.

* * *

That night, Dean and Adam return home heavily drunk, and puzzled by the sight of their five housemates (demon included) stuffed with sweets as they lie scattered on the floor. According to Bobby, there's enough for the two of them.

The pile goes up to seven people as a result.

* * *

 **Owari**


End file.
